


into the arms of the unknown (into the places we never go)

by ASmallAcorn



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Co-Generals, Haircuts, M/M, Sharing Clothes, brief mentions of rey and rose, promotion-related identity crisis, showering together, unsure when this would take place to be honest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-19 01:22:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22136251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASmallAcorn/pseuds/ASmallAcorn
Summary: "They’re both a bruised, maybe a little scarred, not in the same way, but needing the same remedy. Maybe that’s why they fit together so well. Maybe that’s why Finn thinks they’ll be okay. Two of them, together, trying to right all the wrongs, large and small, that they can."being promoted to general inspires something of an identity crisis in poe, as well as revelation or two from finn.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn
Comments: 7
Kudos: 176





	into the arms of the unknown (into the places we never go)

**Author's Note:**

> this started with the quote: "if they get a haircut and they're ugly, it's just a crush." then it got deep. i wrote half of it on a red-eye trans-atlantic flight. i don't even know. 
> 
> (i would seriously love to know how everyone in these movies doesn't have major ptsd, grateful if disney could please explain.) 
> 
> a few more quick notes at the end.

“You’re sure about this?”

It’s after dinner, just a few hours after they’re both made generals that Poe comes to Finn asking for a favor. Something is off about him, subdued and anxious. Finn doesn’t like it, but he also isn’t sure how to fix it. So he’s doing the only thing he thinks he can do, which is to make sure Poe doesn’t do anything regrettable until he gets whatever it is out of his system. He’s not sure it’s working.

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

“And you’re sure you want me to do it? Not Rose?” Rose is quick and precise with her hands, a side effect of her work as an engineer. She would be Finn’s first choice for this.

“I said I trusted you, didn’t I?” Poe’s voice is flat.

“Right. It’s just that Rose is the one who used to do mine so…” He trails off when he catches a glimpse of Poe’s face in the mirror. “Okay. Okay. How long do you want it?”

“Like yours,” Poe says automatically. “Shorter, actually. Yours has grown out.”

Self-consciously, Finn touches the top of his head. His hair is starting to collect into locs, after some tips from Mela, one of the new pilots. It’s something the First Order would have never allowed, but multiple people here have complimented him on. And more to the point, he likes it, which the First Order would definitely never have allowed.

However, none of that helps with the problem currently in front of him.

“So just to be clear here: you want me to cut your hair, and you want it to be the length I used to have mine? Because that’s, ah, pretty drastic.”

“I said I wanted it to be different. Seriously, have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying here?” “I do not want to be any bit responsible for whatever regret you have about this when you’re over whatever mood you’re in.”

“I’m not in a mood,” Poe says, a little mulish, so he’s definitely in a mood. But his face softens a little, which Finn will take as a victory. “I won’t blame you if I hate it.”

“Thank you.” Finn really kind of wants to snap at him, but he can’t when Poe is this glum. He picks up a few attachment bits for his electric razor, considering. “So this is the one I used to have for mine, and this one’s this much-” He holds up the fingers on his other hand, so that Poe can see in the mirror “-this much longer. And this one’s about that much shorter than mine was.”

“The shortest one.” Somehow, this doesn’t surprise Finn.

“Mine was a little longer on top for awhile, I could do that.”

“Just make it all the same.”

“Okay.” He fits the attachment into the razor. “I’ll do the back and sides first. Then I can salvage it if you hate it.”

Poe reaches up to grab Finn’s wrist. “Finn. Buddy. I promise, I’m not going to hate you if I don’t like it. It’ll grow back. I _said_ I wanted something different.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He flicks the razor on, and then off, suddenly a little worried. It feels a lot more complicated to do this for someone else. “Tilt your head a little.” Poe does so, silently, and Finn turns the razor back on.

For a few minutes, the only sound is a quiet buzzing. Poe’s hair isn’t especially long, but it’s thick, and it takes Finn some effort to work his fairly unspectacular standard-issue razor through it all. Something about the whole process makes him a little sad. He’s still got the feeling that this sudden need to alter his appearance is very much related to Poe’s mood. Poe’s watching him work, a little more intensely than might be strictly necessary, which makes Finn nervous. Without prompting, he bows his head to let Finn clip the back; he suddenly seems so incredibly vulnerable.

He goes around the sides of Poe’s head, and the back, twice, just to make sure he’s got everything, before he pauses. “You sure you don’t want the top longer?”

“I’m sure.” The irritation has drained from his voice, and he just sounds exhausted.

There’s something a little mesmerising about the whole process. With each pass, more of Poe’s scalp emerges, clearly visible from behind his cropped hair. Dark curls litter the floor like lost coins. Finn has to stifle the urge to stop and pick one up. Vaguely, he wonders if he might want some sort of memento of Poe _before_ , and then realizes he might be getting closer to what’s wrong here.

When he’s done, he runs a hand over Poe’s head, just to make sure he’s gotten everything. Poe shudders a little and closes his eyes.

“Sorry,” Finn says quietly,although he’s pretty sure his hands can’t be that cold. “It looks good.”

It does look good, actually. Something about it emphasizes Poe’s dark eyes and the angles to his face. It’s still a little bit shocking, just in how brutally short it is, how different that is, but Finn figures he’ll get used to it. Poe runs his hands over it, almost experimentally, tilting his head one direction and then the other.

“Thanks,” he says finally, mouth set. The haircut has stripped away some of the softness in his face that was there before. The resulting look is a little more military and a little less playboy, which is how Finn finally pieces everything together.

“Poe.” Their eyes meet in the mirror. “Is this about the promotion?”

Poe closes his eyes again. “You saw how badly I fucked up. With Admiral Holdo and our plan and...I know with Crait, and with Leia gone, it’s chain of command or whatever, but after what I did, I didn’t think…”

“Nobody blames you,” Finn says softly. Which is true, nobody does. It’s war, and they’re a group of fighters, cobbled together from volunteers and scavenged fighters, up against a vicious machine. If anything, he and Rose had just as big a part in what happened. They were the ones who showed up at the First Order’s doorstep with the “codebreaker” who eventually betrayed them. “You were doing what you thought was best.”

“But that’s the thing. If that was what happened when I was doing my best, what’s it going to look like when I’m doing my worst? Everybody here, they think I’m this cocky asshole who can’t play nice with others, not a general.” He sighs. “I wanted to be _different_ , this time around. I wanted people to look at me and feel like I took it seriously. Like I was working at being...better. If I look like a different person, maybe I could be a different person.”

“Poe.”

“I know, I know, it’s stupid. But what happened, it’s always _there_ now. If I’d just _listened_ , we wouldn’t have lost...well, it feels like-”

“You think I don’t know how that feels? Rose and I literally went to the First Order, failed a mission we weren’t even meant to be on, and then practically handled them the codebreaker on platter.”

“A mission that was my idea.”

“I’m pretty sure both Rose and I had a hand in it as well. And yeah, I feel horrible about it. In hindsight, it was the wrong choice. But we did what we thought was right at the time with the information we had at the time. We tried to do _something_. You tried to do something. Which is a damn sight better than just sitting and doing nothing.” Poe’s face relaxes, just barely, but enough that Finn thinks he’s gotten his message through.

“I can see why they chose you.” He pauses. “You’re the kind of person who people trust. People like you. If anyone’s gonna do this, it should be you.”

“People like you. Rose does, and Rey-”

“Rey spends most of her time in the forest lifting rocks and talking to herself.” Okay, point taken. But still.

“-and I like you, and I’m a general here. You’ve been with the Resistance since the beginning, you’ve put so much into this fight. People know that. They know you’ll do whatever you need to do to win.” Finn bites the inside of his lip for a moment, wondering if this is the time or place, but figures he might as well go for broke while he’s here. “You know I know what it’s like to want to be a totally different person than you were before. But some of the things I thought I wanted to forget, that’s what’s been the most useful here.”

Poe smiles, a little wanly, but a smile nonetheless, which Finn thinks is a victory. “That’s true. We’d be pretty lost without your extensive knowledge of First Order sanitation systems.”

“There you go.” Silence falls again, but it’s a companionable one, not strained like it before. Finn takes the opportunity to brush away a few errant strands of hair and unwrap the sheet he’d draped around Poe’s shoulders. Poe opens his eyes and grabs on to his wrist.

“Seriously, buddy, I’m glad it’s you. You, you’ll do good.”

“And so will you,” Finn says. They’re making eye contact in the mirror for a minute, until Poe closes his eyes again, hand still holding Finn’s wrist. Something about this whole process has been weirdly intense and intimate, and Finn, remembering how Poe reacted to his touch earlier, acts on impulse, figuring he can’t make this any more odd.

Gently, he runs his free hand down the back of Poe’s head, over the bristly hair left there, and his neck, letting his fingers just sort of _linger_ , and Poe shudders again.

“Is this not…” Has he just totally misread this whole situation, or…?

Poe just shakes head. He releases his grip on Finn’s wrist to tangle their fingers together, and oh. Finn shivers from the thrill of this, of being right and from Poe’s touch, but he can’t bring himself to say anything. The moment feels so fragile, like it might burst and disappear before his eyes if he does anything.

“Fuck, Finn, you have no idea how long…” He shakes his head again, like he has to clear it. “I thought I’d made it obvious but then, well, Rose happened, and already before that I didn’t know if you even were interested, if in the First Order you were allowed, if you could…”

“You did make it a little obvious. But. Well. We didn’t really get sex education in the training, no,” Finn says, a little to lighten the mood and a little to set some expectations. Poe lets out a shaky, uneven laugh.

“Yeah, I figured.”

“But, ah, I guess I know. From holovids and then sometimes in the barracks...how things work. Even before Rose, that’s how I knew I wasn’t...But there’s a difference between that and picking up on people actually flirting with me, you know?”

Poe sits still and silent for a minute. Then, still looking at the mirror, he asks quietly: “Can I kiss you?”

“You don’t have to ask.” That’s one thing he’s sure of here. They’ve just done this whole dance, built up to now, he’s not going to suddenly change his mind. After all this, Poe being so vulnerable with him, it feels like a natural conclusion.

“Yeah, I kind of do.” Finn can actually see him take a breath in, watching in the mirror. Poe stands up, carefully, deliberately. In spite of what they’re apparently about to do, or maybe because of it, he doesn’t smile. His eyes are wide and brown and he approaches Finn a little tentatively, like he’ll startle otherwise. For a moment, they just stand face to face.

When they finally kiss, it’s both perfect and also far too short. For the first time since they found out about the promotion, Poe looks actually, genuinely happy. When he speaks, he sounds a bit breathless.

“Hi. Also. Damn.”

“Hi.”

“So. Do you want to do that again?”

“Please.” Poe is holding on to Finn like he’ll drown otherwise. His lips are a little dry, but it’s okay, everyone’s are here. It’s comforting, really.

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Poe murmurs, and the sensation of someone talking against his lips is something Finn’s kind of amazed by.

“Better get used to it.” It turns out the feeling of Poe smiling against his mouth is also fascinating. Being able to experience someone else’s emotions _physically_ is completely new, a form of intimacy Finn had never thought of before.

“Good, cuz honestly, between you and me, I don’t wanna stop doing this.”

“Do you want to…”Finn flicks his eyes over to his bed, trying to express something he’s not sure he even fully knows. “...maybe?”

Poe’s face freezes up. “Finn. Buddy. Are you sure, because that’s a lot and honestly, after today, I’m not sure if I...” He trails off. “I mean, I want to, definitely want to, someday soon, but…”

“We don’t have to have sex.” Everything today feels too delicate for that, but Finn also just wants to preserve whatever is happening now for as long as he can. “Just...stay here tonight, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.” Poe pulls them both down onto the narrow bed, and kisses him, gentle, cautious. There are so many things Finn wants to say to him: _I’ve got you, I want you, I love you, please don’t feel like you’ve done anything wrong, it’s not your fault_. But he doesn’t, instead slowly undoes the buttons of Poe’s shirt, the buckle of his belt, his trousers, and when they’re skin to skin, he wraps himself around Poe, hooks his chin over his shoulder. _You’re okay_ , he thinks. _You were always perfect_.

* * *

“Finn?”

It’s morning. They’re lying, practically forehead to forehead, in Finn’s bed, a line of golden light snaking in from the edge of the window shade.

“Morning.”

“I really hoped that wasn’t a dream.”

“Definitely wasn’t.”

“Good.” For a moment, Finn lets himself get lost in this moment, where it’s warm and he can pretend that the whole galaxy is just him and Poe, here together. Then his chrono beeps. How bad would it be if he just...turned it off?

“Won’t do to be late on your first day as a general,” Poe says, as if he can read Finn’s thoughts.

“Could be worth it.”

“Oh, yeah?” Poe is grinning wickedly. “Am I that worth it?”

“Definitely.” Finn leans in to kiss him. “How bad will it look if we’re both late?”

“Stop flirting with me and go get ready.” He’s using his serious voice, but he kisses Finn after he says it.

“That an order, General?” Immediately, Finn regrets the joke. After everything they talked about the night before, he could maybe lay off Poe for a bit. But Poe doesn’t seem to mind.

“That depends, _General_. You gonna join me in the ‘fresher?”

“I could do that.” This base has two luxuries: cramped, but private, rooms, and actual running water, and Finn thanks every god he’s heard of for both of these. The ‘fresher is like the bed, barely big enough for one person, much less two, but the water is warm and Finn’s not exactly objecting to their close contact.

Poe makes a face when Finn turns on the water, and rubs a hand over his head, almost unconsciously.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Just different without all the hair.” He blinks. “Not bad though. Just sensitive.”

“Here.” Finn reaches for the tiny bottle of generic shampoo that they’re all given. It smells vaguely like some kind of spice and barely lathers, but it doesn’t matter here. He rubs a little though his own locs, and then over Poe’s shorn head, and Poe relaxes into him.

“That...that’s good. I’ll keep my hair like this if it means you’ll do this every day.”

“I might miss the curls eventually. But yeah, I like this.”

“Noted.” Poe opens his eyes. “You want me to return the favour?”

“Please.” The soap they get is hardly any nicer than the shampoo, but in Poe’s hands, Finn has zero complaints. What he’s doing, it’s more massaging then strictly cleaning, so yeah, they’re definitely going to do this every day. It’s nice. It’s a lot more than nice, actually. The Stormtroopers weren’t supposed to touch each other, unless it was absolutely necessary. Someone touching him, someone taking the time to be _careful_ and _gentle_ and _take care of him_ , it’s beyond what he would have thought possible.

“Hey, buddy. You okay?” It’s Poe’s turn to look worriedly at him, and Finn realises that he must have been lost in his own thoughts.

“Yeah.” He swallows. They’ve covered a few soft spots already, he isn’t sure if he should add his. But Poe’s looking at him, not pitying, but concerned, and it feels like if he jumps, he’ll land somewhere safe. “We weren’t allowed to touch each other unless it was strictly necessary. Not even platonically. Until I got here, I didn’t realise that it wasn’t normal.”

Poe turns away for a second, and Finn can see how his jaw sets. When he turns back, his eyes are practically burning. “Buddy. Finn. _Finn_. I’m going to spend the rest of my life making up for everything they did to you in that place, okay? The rest of my life. I promise.”

Finn doesn’t quite have words for how this promise feels, a bit like something inside of him is simultaneously exploding and imploding. The feeling of being loved, he supposes. “You already are.”

Poe doesn’t say anything else, but his jaw relaxes a little and his eyes soften. He watches Finn shave with the same expression, a little bit protective, a little bit anxious. When Finn’s done, he reaches to turn off the water and wraps the pathetic excuse for a towel they all get around Finn.

“I’m not going to break, you know.”

“I know, buddy.” And they both do, they both know that they’re both okay and simultaneously not okay. They both know the deep-set feeling of worrying about someone else, of desperately wanting the other person to be okay, of feeling just a little bit powerless to make that happen. “I know.”

“Think you’re gonna have to start calling me something other than _buddy_ now.” It’s a joke and also a distraction, an easy change of pace. Poe’s mouth twitches, and his smile changes from something tender to something more nearer to joy. Finn likes that, the joy.

“Sweetheart? Baby? Darling?” He’s back into Finn’s space. “Like, hey, baby, you gonna let me use that?” He motions at the towel, and Finn hands it over. “Thank you. _Darling_.” All these names, Finn’s going to horde them, hold on to them as tightly as he’s hung on to the first name Poe gave him. He tucks this small, private happiness deep into his brain somewhere safe, somewhere where he can pull it out and savour it when he needs to.

In typical fashion, Poe has already moved on. “Do you mind if I borrow some clothes? Don’t really think I can show up in the same thing I wore yesterday.”

“You realize everybody is going to know what’s going on if you show up wearing my clothes?”

“Yeah. So? That bother you?”

If the roles were reversed, Finn is sure Poe would have something suave and flirtatious to say. But Finn’s not like that, so he settles for the truth. “No, doesn’t bother me.” And then, because he’s the helpful one in this relationship: “Everything’s in the chest of drawers by the bed. Take whatever you want.”

“Thanks.” Poe gives him a quick kiss before stepping out of bathroom. “You coming?”

“One minute. I have to fix my hair.”

“Oh yeah, I meant to ask.” Poe reappears in the doorway, wearing a pair of Finn’s trousers and an unbuttoned shirt. “Anything special you need to do with yours? To make it, I don’t know, stick or something?” “To make it stick?”

Finn has laugh at Poe’s fairly unartful but also decently accurate interpretation of what he’s trying to get his hair to do. “Wash it maybe every standard week, dry completely, put some oil in it, be patient. That’s what Mela said worked for them.”

“Mela does have excellent hair.” Poe pauses. “Show me what you’re supposed to do with the oil?” Finn has to raise his eyebrows.

“It’s not nearly as interesting as you’re thinking.”

“You wound me. Do you really think I’m only thinking about sex here? Okay, don’t actually answer that. It’s just…” Here, he looks a little uncomfortable. “I could do it for you. Next time. If you want.”

“I don’t really have a technique for it,” Finn admits. “But I usually just put a little on my palm and then rub it in with my fingers. Like this.” He pours a little of the oil Mela gave him into his hand, and then carefully rubs it through his hair with his fingers.

“Okay, I can probably not fuck that up. Next time?”

“Next time,” Finn agrees, and is rewarded with a smile.

“Good. Now come get dressed or we’re going to be seriously late.”

It takes Finn approximately a minute to dress in essentially the same outfit he’s worn every day for months, a latent effect of having spent the first twenty-plus years of his life in uniform. As always, for the final piece, he puts on Poe’s jacket.

“Hey, that’s a nice jacket.” Poe is smirking a little.

“Thanks.” “Where’d you get it?” “

It was a gift actually.” _Two can play this game_ , Finn thinks.

“A gift, you say? From anybody special?”

“It was my boyfriend’s, he gave it to me,” Finn replies, and Poe’s smirk turns into a grin and this time, Finn kisses _him_.

“Kind of weird, thinking about how different everything out there will be,” Poe says, completely non sequitur.

In Finn’s clothes, with the new haircut, Poe looks different than he did the day before. Finn doesn’t look different, not that he knows anyway, but he feels different. The minute they both step out that door, everything else will be a little different too, a little more responsibility maybe, but with a little more love, a little more tenderness.

“It’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.” They’re both a bruised, maybe a little scarred, not in the same way, but needing the same remedy. Maybe that’s why they fit together so well. Maybe that’s why Finn thinks they’ll be okay. Two of them, together, trying to right all the wrongs, large and small, that they can. He grabs Poe’s hand.

“You ready for this?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

**Author's Note:**

> title is from the song "no matter what" by jakob dylan.
> 
> also, googling images of oscar isaac confirms that this would be a decent look for poe, just fyi. not that some of us got drunk, lay on the floor and googled images of oscar isaac while hiding from their family over christmas...


End file.
